


there's something about you

by annadavidson



Series: where secrets don't keep [2]
Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files Roleplaying Game
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-29 00:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annadavidson/pseuds/annadavidson
Summary: He also couldn’t stop wondering why Atlas had come.Prompt: Damien's reaction to Atlas' injuries and scars.





	there's something about you

He’d seen injuries before - bad ones at that. It wasn’t much of a shock to see someone so injured, especially when he still remembered his mother all those years ago. But there was still that jolt that shot through him, that desperate desire to protect, that sudden fear of losing someone he cared about. He hadn’t even registered it until he was sitting on the couch beside Atlas, trying to help him stay up without hurting him.

His fingers twitched, wanting to reach for Atlas’ hand in an attempt at comforting. He held his hand back, unsure where that urge was coming from. He tried to convince himself that it was just instinct, something he’d learned from years of trying to comfort his mother. The urge to take his hand in case he needed grounding, to ask what he needed, ask how he could help.

He told himself it was just the memories of his mother after his father had gotten all his anger out for the time being. She’d never asked him to care to her wounds. She’d always just asked that he hold her hand, perhaps hum to her, sometimes make her a cup of tea. He told himself it was those memories that caused the sinking in his stomach.

But then Atlas took his shirt off and while he was quite attractive, Damien’s eyes focused on the scars, the bruising, the cuts. He briefly noticed marks on his back - claws? At first he wondered if Atlas had been attacked by some animal but then he remembered him running off after Saben.

Damien had admittedly never met a vampire before Saben. Despite having been knight for the Summer Court for roughly five years, the magical, the non-human, it was all still new to him. His companions - Ravan, Joey, and Bluebell - could all probably guess more accurately what Saben was capable of. Atlas admitted to them that the injuries - a good chunk of them at least - were from Saben. It made him wonder what state Saben was in - according to Bluebell, who had apparently ran into the vampire earlier, it wasn’t a good state.

He also couldn’t help wondering about the scars. There was that urge again, fingers twitching, this time to brush his fingers against the scars. His eyes focused on the scar on Atlas’ face, along the right side of his jaw, the side facing him. His hand briefly lifted off his own knee before he quickly held it back down, cheeks burning. He didn’t think Atlas would appreciate him suddenly caressing his jaw and the mere thought, well, he wondered if it was possible to die from blushing too much.

Thankfully Ravan then handed him a glass of water - apparently his staring hadn’t been subtle which was admittedly believable. He held the glass in both hands and focused on sipping at it, those his eyes quickly and easily wandered to Atlas yet again.

He was tempted to throw the water in his own face to cool down his face, try to stop blushing. He was left sitting on the couch even after Atlas had been taken upstairs. He couldn’t stop wondering how long it would take him to heal, why he didn’t accept better medical care from Bluebell. He couldn’t stop wondering where Saben was, if he needed the same amount of medical attention as Atlas did.

He also couldn’t stop wondering why Atlas had come - surely in the state he was in, he hadn’t needed to. He couldn’t have possibly thought it was a smart idea to use a portal in that state. Still, he’d been told Damien had been calling him and he’d showed up. Normally that had the potential to make the young knight flustered but now it just made him feel guilty.

Damien had seen Atlas run off after Saben the other day. He could have easily guessed that the two of them had gotten into a fight or that Atlas had been busy. Yet he’d been so afraid after the attack on him and Joey. He hadn’t been this scared in a long time.

He continued to hold the glass even after he’d drank all the water. He’d barely registered the television being turned on by Joey. He wanted to go upstairs and check on Atlas. He wanted to apologize for calling him. However he was fairly certain Bluebell would kill him if he wandered upstairs so he remained on the couch.

He couldn’t stop his thoughts from worrying about Atlas and Saben and… When had he started to care for them? They were both responsible for the death of his boyfriend, his first love. He should have hated them but his hatred had always been directed at one man - and it wasn’t either of them.

 _I don’t care about him,_ he thought to himself, eyes glancing toward the second story of the house where he knew Atlas was. _I… I_ shouldn’t _care about him._

Images of those scars, those injuries flashed in his mind. His grip on the glass tightened, his shoulders slumped. He did care, he realized. He didn’t know why but he did. It showed in the way he’d practically ran to Atlas or Saben - figuratively, of course - the second he’d become terrified for his own life. He’d frantically tried to find the tent he’d met the two of them in only to discover it was gone and then settle for tapping on the tracking bracelet. It showed in the way that his hands itched to comfort Atlas, seeing him hurt like that, seeing him vulnerable though it was obvious the wizard was trying hard _not_ to appear vulnerable.

And it showed in the way that merely thinking about Atlas and Saben being hurt caused a jolt of stubborn protectiveness to race through him. He should have wanted them to get hurt. He should have wanted revenge even though in his heart he knew that wouldn’t take his own pain away. But instead he felt a sense of protectiveness over the two men growing with each interaction. Instead he found himself not wanting either of them to get hurt. And he had no clue what it was about them that caused these feelings.

**Author's Note:**

> Atlas belongs to the campaign's GM.
> 
> Ravan, Joey, and Bluebell belong to my fellow players.
> 
> This fic is based off of events of a previous campaign session.


End file.
